


Sword Thief

by Romantic_Khajiit



Series: A Khajiit’s Random Skyrim One-Shots [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anger, Companions, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Forgiveness, Getting to Know Each Other, Jealousy, Might eventually develop into a longer story, Not the Companions Quest-line, One Shot, Post-Skyrim Main Quest, Short, Teasing, Understanding, Vilkas is sweet when he wants to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantic_Khajiit/pseuds/Romantic_Khajiit
Summary: One-shot-ish short story based one the one crazy play-through I did where I just took off with Vilkas’s sword and completed the main story and several other quest lines before going back to Eorland.I imagine that would actually piss Vilkas off pretty badly... and winning him over and marrying him after all of that would not be nearly as simple as it was in game....But of course once he’s been won over... Vilkas really doesn’t “half do” anything...(Also, obligatory disclaimer: this is a fanfiction so most of the characters and the setting do not belong to me.)
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Series: A Khajiit’s Random Skyrim One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071212
Comments: 93
Kudos: 81





	1. Worth

She was a Breton with reddish brown hair, a slim figure, suntanned skin, and hazel eyes... she had waltzed into Jorrvaskr and introduced herself to Kodlak as Ysabyth of Riften.  
Vilkas thought she wasn't bad to look at, but he had almost laughed when Kodlak implied she could be Companion material... but of course he couldn't refuse the Harbinger when he told Vilkas to go test her arm...

Out in the yard, the woman had actually surprised him... she had clearly understood that he didn't think much of her, and it made her angry.  
When angry she got a little more intimidating looking... her eyes flashed a little more green, and something about her grabbed his wolf spirit's attention... but she was still a little Breton...  
And the iron sword she swung at him with was fairly pitiful... he almost laughed as he caught her attacks with his shield he couldn't really even bring himself to hit her.  
But, all things considered, she did have a surprisingly good arm... he'd admitted that much... he'd figured if she could stand up to a fair amount of training she might just make it...  
So he'd handed her his sword and told her to bring it to Eorland.

Vilkas distinctly remembered the scowl she'd given him when he joked that his sword was worth more than she was... and then the damn woman had never made it to Eorland.  
Vilkas had gone inside to tell Kodlak that he might have been right about the girl, and they'd all just never heard from her again.

That had been nearly three years ago. Farkas still sometimes gave him grief for insulting her and apparently running her off. Vilkas was still mad she'd run off with his favorite short-sword... it had been the first one Eorland had made for him when he officially joined the Companions, and it had better balance than any he'd gotten since. Even though he'd grown more into using a great sword now, he still liked swapping back to the one-handed weapons periodically. He remembered and got angry with the damn woman all over again every time he picked up another short sword that didn't have that perfect balance.

Since then several other things had happened around Skyrim... actually only shortly after the angry Breton had stolen his sword, the dragons had returned to Skyrim... fortunately so had a dragonborn. The following year the civil war had been finally brought to an end, the Dark Brotherhood was destroyed, and the Thieves' Guild rose back to prominence. Then only about a month ago, the World Eater was vanquished. Legends of the Dragonborn were spreading like wildfire all over Skyrim again.

Vilkas was disappointed he'd never managed to catch sight of the Dragonborn... the rumors he heard were quite intriguing...  
She was said to be a beautiful woman of surprising power... the art of the ancient Nords, the ability to shout a man off his feet or even knock a dragon from the sky... the rumors also said that she'd fashioned her own armor from the very hides of the beasts and that she wielded a short sword in one hand and spells in the other...  
Vilkas typically didn't care for the idea of fighting with magic... most mages he'd ever seen wore robes and hid behind their magic like cowards, thinking that made them fighters... but what he heard about the Dragonborn sounded more practical than cowardly.  
However, to his dismay, he'd still never even been able to catch a glimpse of the woman, even when she'd supposedly ridden a dragon off to Sovengarde from Dragonsreach.  
Farkas joked that she must be avoiding him... Vilkas had thought that to be a ridiculous idea...  
Until he returned home from a hunting trip one evening and found a new but familiar scent in the mead hall...

It took only a moment for his eyes to find the source...  
Sitting at the table, talking and laughing with Aela and Farkas, was that damned Breton woman who'd stolen his sword... her hair was longer now, and she had a long scar running along the left side of her face that surprisingly didn't make her less attractive... and...  
She was wearing armor that looked to be made of... scales...  
Vilkas blinked in surprised confusion for several moments, just staring at her until she glanced up and met his eyes...  
A mischievous grin spread across her face...

"Oh, Vilkas," she called out as she turned to pull something from her enchanted gear pack, "I had Eorland sharpen your sword," she smirked as she pulled out a short sword, "I've also had to make a few adjustments to it," she added as she held it out to him...  
Vilkas hadn't even realized he had walked over to her before he reached out to accept the sword... he didn't recognize the sheath... it looked to be made of the same scales as her armor, and the leather around the handle had been replaced with a similar material that had been tanned and softened... it made for a much more secure feeling grip actually...  
He almost didn't recognize the blade... almost... he drew the weapon to find it was definitely skyforge steel, and the balance was familiar... it was _his sword_...

"What in Oblivion...?" He heard himself mutter as he looked back to the smirking woman before him.

"Oh, and you may want to be careful with it now," she said in an almost snide tone, "that's the sword I killed Alduin with... it's probably worth more than you are."


	2. Name

It was late in the night, both moons half full, shining brightly In a clear starry sky. There was a refreshingly cool breeze blowing across the plains, carrying the crisp scent of autumn leaves from further north.

Vilkas was grumpily practicing with his old sword... trying to get the feel of it again... trying not to think about the Dragonborn...

That damned woman who'd stolen his sword... she'd become a legend across all of Skyrim... wielding his sword... she'd killed the World Eater with his sword...

And then she'd waltzed back to the Companions and handed it back to him like that made it all ok...

And she'd been welcomed back. Farkas had apologized to her for Vilkas's insult. Even Kodlak told her he was glad she'd come back and reconsidered joining them.

Farkas had been quick to give her jobs and then even Skjor had been impressed enough to send her on an official trial.

And she'd been initiated. She was one of them now...

Vilkas fumed.

He'd nearly punched Farkas when he told him she'd been allowed to learn their secret.

Vilkas seemed to be the only one who saw her for what she was... a thief. She was a mage and a thief... two things Vilkas didn't trust... two things that should never have been allowed entry to the Companions, but here she was, and Vilkas seemed to be the only one who wasn't ok with it...

He furiously continued his assault on the practice dummy. He wasn't just angry with her... he was angry with all of them for accepting her... for not listening to his thoughts or feeling on the matter...

Kodlak had listened to his complaints... the Harbinger heard him out patiently, and Vilkas had thought he was getting somewhere... but then Kodlak had simply told him he needed to give the woman a chance... she'd slain dragons and saved the world after all...

Vilkas snorted angrily... he suspected she'd also had something to do with the thieves guild's return to power, but no one believed him on that...

Even Farkas had taken a liking to the damned woman, despite Vilkas's complaints. Farkas had told him to get to know her... he seemed to be of the opinion that Vilkas would actually like the woman if he gave her a chance.

Vilkas growled in frustration... Farkas wasn't the smartest, or most clever of them, but he was better than most when it came to reading a person's character. It made Vilkas even more aggravated that this woman had even Farkas fooled.

"You know..." a calm, feminine voice commented suddenly...

Vilkas turned with a start to find the very woman of his ire sitting at the back porch... how long had she been there? How had she gotten there without him hearing or smelling her? Had she positioned herself downwind of him intentionally? Vilkas didn't like that...

"...There's got to be a way to take out your frustration that doesn't involve quite that much property damage," she smirked at him as she nodded toward the remains of the training dummy that Vilkas had been hacking away at for the last few hours. It was mostly a wooden post now... there was some fabric still hanging at the top...

Vilkas knew he was going to get an earful from Eorland about that later because Tilma certainly wouldn't be able to fix that one by herself...

But Vilkas was still just a bit too grumpy to care. He looked back to the damn woman with a glare...

Ysmir, why did her eyes have to shine in the moonlight like that? It would be so much easier to ignore and avoid her if her damn beautiful features weren't so appealing to look at.

"What do you want, thief?" Vilkas growled.

"I have a name you know," she grumbled, not seeming the least bit intimidated by his tone.

"I would assume you do," Vilkas retorted, "you also seem to think yourself too famous and important to have bothered mentioning it to me." It wasn't a lie... she never had introduced herself to him...

"No," she rolled her eyes, "I thought you to be intelligent and observant enough to have caught it."

Of course he'd caught it... not the Dragonborn's, that was always just spoken as an awed mention of the legendary warrior... but he had been sitting right next to Kodlak when she introduced herself over three years ago.

"You're also apparently arrogant enough to assume I would have remembered it if I did," Vilkas shot back. He did remember, he actually thought Ysabyth was a rather pretty name, assuming she'd actually given Kodlak her real name back then... but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of admitting that.

"Well excuse me for believing your brother," she grumbled.

"And what's my brother got to do with this?" Vilkas asked irritably.

"He loves to tell me how much of a better talker you are, and that you're the smart one... specifically though," she paused, looking distinctly skeptically at him, "he said the Companions like to tease each other, but you're _good people_. He specifically told me that you wouldn't have meant for me to take that insult to heart if you also had intended to let me join."

"Back then I didn't," Vilkas grumbled, "I went back inside and told Kodlak you had a good arm and might just make it... imagine my shock when you turned out to be a petty sword thief!"

"I brought it back," she protested indignantly.

Vilkas rolled his eyes.

"Are you bothering me for a reason?" He growled venomously.

"I was actually looking for you so I could apologize," she grumbled, "I was going to see if you needed a sparring partner or something."

Vilkas glared suspiciously at her. "Alright, I'm listening..."

She gave an exasperated sigh, "I'm sorry," she said flatly.

Vilkas's eyebrow twitched irritably. She didn't sound the least bit sorry.

"I was going to say that I was sorry for assuming the worst of you and just running off like I did," she continued, "but you're not currently giving me any reasons to doubt my initial impressions."

Vilkas's glare hardened. The idea of using her in place of the training dummy was getting more appealing by the minute... "and you think you've gotten good enough to be my sparring partner?" He challenged.

"I mean..." she shrugged, "Alduin gave me a run for my money, but he's dead and I'm not... I'm at least good enough to not let you kill me..."

She drew her new skyforge steel sword and got into a fighting stance. Vilkas wasn't surprised that she'd gotten a blade just like his old one that she'd stolen...

"Alright," Vilkas growled, "I'll let you try and prove that claim..."

He picked up his shield and got into his fighting stance... and was suddenly struck with a sense of dejavu... squaring up in the training yard, with this pretty little Breton... he hated how intrigued by her his wolf spirit was... it would be so much easier to properly hate her if she weren't so damn attractive...  
  



	3. Not Jealous

Vilkas's fight with the damn woman proved she had gotten much better than Vilkas had expected. She moved subtly and quickly, and had a lot of strength for her size... he was loath to admit it, but she really was good. If her initial test had gone anything like that he would have been much more sure of her ability to make it into their ranks. She definitely impressed him now... not that he was about to tell her that. He still didn't trust her.

She offered to spar with him several more evenings after that... an offer he took her up on at first...

He spent a few more evenings out under the moons, crossing swords with the Dragonborn.

It was... actually fun. She kept up with him and she didn't hold back... she kept him on his toes, and... by Ysmir, the sight of her working up a sweat in the moonlight... her cheeks flushed and eyes flashing with adrenaline... it didn't take long for that sight to begin haunting his dreams and he immediately began turning her down after that.

He still didn't trust her. He couldn't let her get into his head, that would just make it all the more difficult to hate and avoid her.

Of course it was already getting more difficult to avoid her... Farkas, Skjor, and Aela had been eagerly giving her every job she would take, and Kodlak expressed that he wanted Vilkas to start giving her slightly higher profile jobs as well. The more weeks went by, the more difficult that got to avoid too.

Finally one morning, Vilkas grudgingly let her have a job requesting the retrieval of an old dwarven sword... an old family heirloom for some family in Markarth... it was a high paying job that was going to be a serious pain if she messed it up.

Vilkas at least half expected her to steal the dwarven sword and disappear for a few more years... and he'd have to clean up the Companions' reputation and hear everyone tell him he'd been right...

But until then, he'd sit here in the hall and wait for her... and at least pretend he actually expected her to come back while he mentally rehearsed what he'd tell the client... they probably weren't going to get paid for this one...

Vilkas downed a mug of mead and slammed it grumpily back to the table at that thought. He wasn't sulking...

"Not like you to be drinkin' like that this early in the day..." Farkas commented bluntly, pulling Vilkas from his thoughts.

Vilkas sighed and looked up at his brother... he was probably the only person who knew Farkas well enough to hear that that blunt comment was also laced with concern and a question.

"I gave our... new whelp a job," he grumbled, barely resisting the urge to call her a 'damned sword thief' instead of 'new whelp'.

Farkas's face split into a grin.

"That's good," he nodded, "Ysa's been itchin' for something more interesting than killin' skeevers an' scarin' debtors."

"Who?" Vilkas looked up at Farkas with a raised eyebrow.

...that wasn't quite the name she'd given Kodlak...

...Farkas hadn't...

"Oh, Ysabyth," Farkas smirked, "I call her Ysa..."

Vilkas cringed. He had... he'd given her a pet name...

"...she said her friends call her that..."

Ok, that wasn't quite as bad as what Vilkas had originally thought—

"...an' it's easier to yell in the heat of the moment and all..."

"The what?!"

"Huh?" Farkas looked in confusion at Vilkas's expression of shocked and disturbed disbelief, and then understanding slowly settled in... "not _that_ kind of 'heat of the moment'!" Farkas laughed, "I meant battle! Guess I know where your brain's been!"

"Shut up, it has not!" Vilkas growled, but Farkas kept laughing.

"You can lie to yourself," Farkas sniggered, "but you can't lie to me!"

"She's the damn whelp who stole my sword, I'm not—"

"She's the Dragonborn, and you think she's pretty," Farkas cut him off with a smug grin.

Vilkas felt his face heating up, and Farkas just laughed harder.

"Fine, she's physically attractive," Vilkas admitted through gritted teeth, "that doesn't mean I like her, or trust her."

"You looked pretty upset at the thought that I'd been with her..." Farkas teased, "you gonna try and tell me that wasn't jealousy?"

"That was concern for you," Vilkas replied irritably.

"Mmhmm," Farkas nodded, clearly not fully believing him. "You know you don't have to worry about me," he smirked, "Kodlak raised us better than that—"

"Which is why I was shocked," Vilkas interrupted with a grumble, "and worried she might have seduced and corrupted you."

"I'm too stubborn for that, and she's not that type," Farkas rolled his eyes, "you'd know that if you gave her a chance."

Vilkas just scowled.

"Don't worry," Farkas continued with a chuckle, "you'll know about it if I bed her, 'cause there'll be an amulet of Mara and a trip to Riften first."

Vilkas felt his stomach turn at that thought... his brother couldn't marry the Dragonborn— that damned thief... Vilkas couldn't stand that... the thought of Farkas standing at the alter of Mara with that beautiful little woman... with her smirking and smiling like she did... those shining hazel green eyes...

Farkas's laughter suddenly pulled Vilkas back from those thoughts...

"I knew it! You're jealous!"

"Shut up!" Vilkas snapped. He reached across the table, grabbed a loaf of bread, and threw it at Farkas's face.

Farkas was laughing too hard to even bother dodging and the loaf of bread bounced off his forehead and into the hearth. Soon the whole hall was filled with the smell of burnt bread and Tilma angrily shooed them out the back door.


	4. Too Drunk to Know...

To Vilkas's dismay, Ysabyth had returned with the sword he'd sent her after only a week later.

She got back around the same time Ria and Aela had come back from a job in the Reach. Aela and Ria had killed a massive cave bear that had been wreaking havoc near Markarth, and the Companions had a feast in their honor.

Vilkas never would have believed Aela's stories of the cave bear if they hadn't brought the thing's pelt back... then she told of some saber cat Ysabyth had helped her kill in the Pale, which prompted Farkas to tell of a pack of horkers he and Torvar had killed a few weeks ago, and on the evening went.

Vilkas enjoyed his food and drink. He chimed in with a story or a comment on a few occasions, but for the most part he kept to himself.

He was having more trouble than he wanted to acknowledge keeping his eyes from lingering on the Dragonborn... she had taken her armor off that evening— as had most of the Companions— and was wearing a long, cream-colored dress with a brown corset.  
For reasons he refused to admit to himself, Vilkas was finding Ysabyth's dress more... _distracting_ than Ria's or Aela's... the brown color contrasted with her hair, making the hints of red stand out more...

At first he tried not to look at her at all, but the further into his drinks he got, the less he cared...

Actually he thought it was a shaping up to be a rather nice evening...

Until toward the end of dinner... when his eyes fell once again on Ysabyth... and Farkas... with his arm around her waist...

She was leaning against him and whispering something in his ear that was making him grin like an idiot...

Farkas's eyes met Vilkas's and his grin became a little more smug as he subtly gripped her a little tighter.

Vilkas suddenly felt like he was going to be sick... his wolf spirit raged at him... that damn woman had no business hanging on his brother like that, she should be with—

Wait...

No...

 _Damn it_...

Vilkas got abruptly to his feet and headed outside. He needed air.

Out on the back porch he could still hear the revelry inside. He stalked quickly away. He needed more space... he needed quiet...

He must have had too much to drink... that was the only explanation for the way Ysabyth's image was still plaguing his mind... for the way his wolf spirit wanted to barge back in there and grab her for himself...

He didn't want to hold her like that... he _didn't_... it was just his beast blood getting riled up...

He needed a walk.

Vilkas wasn't sure how much time passed as he walked aimlessly around Whiterun, trying desperately not to think about what his brother was probably doing with the Dragonborn by now...

At first he thought his imagination was torturing him with her scent on the wind as well, but as he slowly sobered he realized he wasn't imagining it. He walked slowly back to Jorrvaskr to realize it smelled like she'd come outside... and it didn't smell like Farkas was with her...

Confused, and a little curious, Vilkas made his way back up the steps toward the building...

On the roof of Jorrvaskr, not downstairs with his brother, was Vilkas's sword thief...

He stared in confusion at her for several minutes... she was still wearing that brown and cream colored dress, laying on her back on the keel of the old ship that made the roof, and just staring up at the sky...

There was a bottle of mead sitting on the roof above her head...

What in Oblivion had happened since he left?

Vilkas was about to call out to her, but it suddenly occurred to him that if she was drunk she might fall if he startled her... and if she fell toward the back of the building there'd be no way he could catch her...

Sighing in mild irritation, Vilkas made his way around back to the porch, grabbed one of the rafters, and hauled himself up to the roof. He almost slipped, and he was a little worried he'd break something... he hadn't climbed up here since he was a boy— and he'd weighed considerably less back then, but the porch held. He made his way carefully up to the peak of the roof.

The woman just continued staring at the sky with tired, glassy eyes. Her long dress hung across her body leaving just enough to the imagination... her hair was hanging loosely down the roof over her shoulder, and she smelled of snowberry soap and mead.

"What're you doing up here, Farkas?" She mumbled without looking at him.

Vilkas raised an eyebrow at her... based on how strongly he could smell the mead on her he suspected that bottle was at least mostly empty. Had he misread what was going on with her and Farkas?

"I came to see what you're doing up here," Vilkas replied, deciding not to correct her yet.

"Drinking," she replied bluntly, gesturing to the bottle.

Vilkas raised his eyebrows curiously... what had Farkas done?

"And you just assumed I was Farkas without looking?" Vilkas asked. He smirked a little in spite of himself, but to his dismay, she still didn't even look at him.

She just shrugged, still staring at the sky. "Aela's not that loud, Ria's too drunk to climb," she slurred, "and no one else would bother."

Ysmir, she sounded drunk...

"You don't think Vilkas would bother?"

"Maybe bother yelling at me," she grumbled, "he'd probably prefer if I fell off and died."

Were those tears in her eyes?

"That's... not true," he said in a low voice.

He shuffled a little closer and sat down just within arms reach...

...just so he could catch her if she started to fall...

He needed to watch her carefully so he could make sure she wasn't about to lose balance and fall...

He definitely wasn't paying attention to how well he could see her cleavage from that angle... or trying to imagine how she'd feel in his arms...

He picked up the bottle and set it to his other side.

She spared him a quick glance then, her eyes were bloodshot, which made the green stand out brightly... by Ysmir, they were like emeralds...

"I know you keep telling me he's a good man and all," she sighed, clearly still not realizing he wasn't Farkas, "but I'm not sure believing that is doing me any good."

"Why do you say that?" Vilkas asked curiously... and why would Farkas keep telling her that if he was interested in her?

"Because he can't stand me," she whispered, and one of the tears rolled down her flushed cheek.

Vilkas's heart clenched, and he was pretty sure he couldn't blame that on his beast blood. He knew he shouldn't take advantage of the situation, but he was too curious now...

"Why do you care what he thinks?" He asked in a low voice.

She sighed heavily, "you'll make fun of me in the morning if I tell you... or worse, tell him," she grumbled.

Vilkas swallowed uncomfortably... why was his heart rate speeding up?

"I promise I won't..." he whispered.

She sighed again. "I never should have taken his sword," she shook her head, "he hates me for it, and the whole time I had it... I... I thought of him."

"Really?"

"Every time I drew that sword I thought of him..." she nodded, "for three fucking years... I started off just using his stupid insults as motivation to prove him wrong... but then..." she trailed off looking back up at the sky and another tear fell down her face.

Vilkas's throat felt dry... "then what?" He prodded.

"I started imagining how he'd respond if I actually did manage to impress him... and what his damn accent and his voice might sound like if he actually didn't look down on me... if he actually liked me..."

Vilkas blinked in shock as she continued...

"...it turned into a really stupid little fantasy, and..." she paused and glanced up at him again, looking embarrassed now.

"What kind of fantasy?" Vilkas asked, trying not to sound excited... because of course he wasn't excited by such an idea... was he?

"Mostly innocent things honestly..." she sighed and stared back at the sky... "I'm the Dragonborn... I had to save the world and everyone expects me to take care of them... I... I just liked to imagine what it would be like to actually have someone take care of me... and hold me... just things like that... mostly..."

Vilkas hoped she didn't hear his breath catch in his throat... he certainly couldn't have her figuring out how badly part of him wanted to hold her... not to mention what else...

"Mostly?" He repeated a little breathlessly...

Ysabyth's cheeks flushed a bit more but she didn't elaborate... "I know it was stupid," she continued instead, "fantasizing about a nearly complete stranger... I obviously don't know him at all... I wanted to, I wanted to come back and be more than the outsider he'd never heard of, but... instead I'm just the 'damn thief' to him..." a few more tears fell from her eyes... "I... I just need to get over him..."

Vilkas swallowed... why should this make him feel bad? He didn't care how the damn woman felt... she'd stolen his sword and run off... he should want her to get over him... he should want her to leave again... she didn't belong...

She was a thief, and a mage...

...and... the Dragonborn...

...the beautiful woman of legend...

...and...

...

Damn it...

He didn't want her to leave...

...

He... he didn't want her to get over him... he didn't want her to cry...

He probably should have expected this... part of him had realized he'd been in denial ever since she returned, but he'd been too angry to admit it to himself...

Vilkas sighed and took a deep breath... he couldn't deny it anymore. He still didn't trust her, but... he wanted to...

"Don't give up on him..." he said quietly, before he could talk himself out of it. He hoped she was too drunk to figure out he wasn't Farkas because at this point he didn't think he'd have an excuse...

"He won't even spar with me anymore," she shook her head, and more tears fell.

"He will," Vilkas replied gently, "you can't tell it yet, but he is coming around..."

"I don't know," she grumbled, "I'm pretty sure your plan to make him jealous tonight just backfired."

Vilkas just blinked in surprise for a moment... so that had been what that was about... he wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse... he definitely felt like he needed to punch Farkas...

"No," Vilkas replied slowly, "I'm... sure it worked..."

She gave a soft snort of disbelief at that, "yeah, worked to make him more mad... he's still not even back yet..."

Vilkas chuckled. She sounded worried about him... that was... actually cute...

"We should get you off this roof," he suggested with a smile, "you're too drunk to know if he's back or not."


	5. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m apparently rather bad at writing characters without overthinking their backstory... so Ysabyth has a backstory now... and I’m sorry— or you’re welcome, whichever applies... Enjoy!

Vilkas would like to have been able to say that he had gently and gracefully carried her in his arms while he climbed off the roof... and since she was probably too drunk to recall in the morning and no one else was there to witness it, that was the story he was going to go with.

Fortunately he had managed to avoid injuring either of them, but it certainly wasn't graceful. He'd had to basically hold her over his shoulder to climb, then he'd lost his balance once he reached the ground and gone tumbling like a drunkard down the gentle incline to the yard. All the while Ysabyth had held on tightly, and Vilkas found himself sitting beside the porch, holding the small Breton woman in his lap with her arms around his neck.

Vilkas took a deep breath... she was a small Breton woman, but her muscles were toned like a Nord woman's should be... which certainly explained how she could be so much stronger than she looked... she felt soft, but firm in his arms and Vilkas knew he was in trouble... his imagination was going to run wild with this information in his dreams...

He was pulled from those thoughts as she giggled at him...

"Well, that wasn't as bad as riding a dragon, but I was sure we were going to fall..."

"Told you I could get us down," Vilkas chuckled. By Ysmir, he didn't want to let go of her now...

He barely resisted the urge to just pull her closer as she let go of his shoulders... she seemed a little too drunk to actually get up. Instead she leaned back against his chest, looking up at the sky.

"Before you came up I was just remembering Sovengarde..." she explained tiredly.

Vilkas raised his eyebrows in surprise, he'd forgotten that at least the story was that she'd actually gone to Sovengarde...

"What's it like?" He asked curiously.

"That," she pointed up at the aurora... it was particularly bright tonight... "but the whole sky like that... everything is... pretty... nothing's harsh, everything belongs there..."

She smiled up at the sky as Vilkas tried to make sense of that drunken description... something about her smile as she watched the aurora made him feel like he did understand...

"Tsun scared me a bit," she added with a sheepish smirk, "I had to pass his test to go to the Hall of Valor... he—"

"You actually faced Tsun's test?" Vilkas interrupted in amazement.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, "fought him with Vilkas's sword... actually it reminded me of fighting Vilkas to get into the Companions..."

Vilkas felt his heart skip at that... had she just actually compared him to Tsun?

"But Tsun understood why I was a thief..." she added in a sad whisper...

Vilkas's heart dropped; _she was a thief_...

"...and he knew I meant it when I said that life was behind me..." she continued...

That made Vilkas raise his eyebrows attentively again...

"...so he said he judged me worthy... but..." she trailed off and took a slightly shuddered breath, and Vilkas realized he could smell tears forming in her eyes again.

"But what?" He prodded.

She sighed heavily, "how do I convince someone like Vilkas I can be trusted? How do you explain yourself to someone who doesn't want to hear it, when you've never explained that much of your life to anyone before?"

Vilkas took a deep breath... contemplating what he should do...

The honest thing to do would be to tell her he wasn't Farkas and ask her to try and explain now...

But she'd just admitted she was a thief...

But Tsun had still found her worthy...

Of course that could be a lie...

...But she didn't sound dishonest... she sounded too drunk to lie right now...

Besides that she wasn't likely to have survived and defeated Alduin if Tsun had denied her entry...

Tsun had deemed her worthy of Sovengarde... an honor that Vilkas realized wasn't likely to be extended to him at the end of his days...

He could at least let her explain... he wanted to understand...

But he wasn't sure he quite had the nerve to let her know he knew yet...

"Practice," he suggested in a low, gentle voice, "pretend I'm Vilkas... explain it to me..."

Ysmir, he hoped she was too drunk to remember this in the morning or he'd have a lot to explain to Farkas... _after_ he punched him...

She let out a soft, sad sounding laugh, "for starters," she sighed, "pretty sure he wouldn't let me sit in his lap... for any reason."

She moved to try and get up again and Vilkas reluctantly shifted to help her.

"You never know," he smirked as he got up and helped her to her feet, "he may have been in denial for weeks, secretly wishing you would..."

That earned him another half-hearted laugh, "gods, I wish," she shook her head, and the motion caused her to lose her balance.

Vilkas just grinned as he caught her and helped her to a chair on the porch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the more logical side of him was scolding him... he really shouldn't be flirting or admitting anything before he'd heard her story... and he definitely shouldn't be enjoying holding her this much... he was in trouble... if her story wasn't one he could accept he was going to have a lot of trouble now...

"So tell me," he added, sitting in a chair beside hers, "what do you wish Vilkas would understand? How would you convince him he was wrong about you?"

To Vilkas's surprise, another tear rolled down her cheek.

"I don't know... he wasn't really wrong," she sighed.

Vilkas's heart dropped again... that wasn't what he was hoping to hear...

"I _was_ a thief. I never wanted to be, but I was... I... I came to the Companions at first because I just thought I needed help... I came back because I wanted to live a more honorable life now... I left the thieves guild to defeat the dragons, and after facing Tsun I swore I would never go back. After seeing Sovengarde, I never want to lurk in the shadows again..."

Vilkas cocked his head curiously as he tried to process this... he'd been right about her... but if she honestly was turning to a path of honor now...

"How involved were you with the guild?" He asked uncomfortably.

"More involved than I wanted to be..." she sighed. "They wanted to make me guild master... that was when I left."

Vilkas just stared in shock for a moment... she hadn't just been a petty thief... she'd been... a _master thief_...

"I made my dragon scale armor to replace my Nightingale armor," she added quietly.

"Nightingale?" Vilkas repeated dumbstruck... he hadn't been right about her at all, that was so much worse... Vilkas just stared at her in disbelief... Kodlak had let a Nightingale into the Companions...

She nodded, spilling more tears... "I wanted out long before then, but... things got complicated..."

Vilkas blinked and took another deep breath... Tsun had judged her worthy, he reminded himself, so she had to have explanations for all this...

"So, how does one who never wanted to be a thief end up a Nightingale being offered the position of guild master?" He asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.

She took another shuddered breath, several more tears streaming down her face. "I... it just... it started off my only option really... I... I grew up in Honor Hall Orphanage, the woman who cared for us told me my whole life I was a worthless leech on society and that I'd never amount to anything but a worthless tavern whore like my mother, and—"

"That's an awful thing to tell a child," Vilkas interrupted in shocked outrage.

"Yeah, well," Ysabyth sighed, "Grelod was awful... that was among the nicer things she ever did for me... because she made me stubborn and angry enough to prove her wrong." She paused to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her dress before continuing, "when I was old enough to be thrown out of the orphanage, Balimund already had an apprentice and couldn't afford to take on another... no one else was interested in hiring me... I absolutely refused to be a tavern whore... and Brynjolf offered to take me on... I thought at first he meant as an apprentice at his stall in the market, but... well, I figured out where he really makes his money when he asked me to help him pull a con... he was the only one who'd really been kind to me most of my life, so I didn't feel like I could tell him no."

"So you were an orphan with no where else to go..." Vilkas said, trying to let that understanding sink in...

Honestly, he realized, he and Farkas could have ended up like that... if Jergen had just dropped them off at the orphanage instead of bringing them to Jorrvaskr...

"Yeah," she nodded with another sigh, "but it wasn't just that..." she continued, "Brynjolf was sort of there for me from the beginning... he used to show up at the orphanage every now and then and bring me and my friend sweet rolls. He used to bring me gifts on my birthday— dolls when I was a kid, then necklaces or earrings... Grelod always took those away and told me I didn't have a birthday."

Vilkas furrowed his brow at that, but let her continue.

"I found out later that he made frequent donations to the temple so they could buy clothes for the orphans, and even had several arguments with Grelod about not letting anyone adopt the children... I always thought he was just some upstanding merchant who cared... though, he did teach me things like how to climb rooftops and walk up on my toes to make less noise. By the time I found out he was the second of the thieves guild, he'd been the only adult to ever care for me for so many years... I..."

"I understand," Vilkas sighed, "you couldn't tell him no."

He and Farkas had taken the beast blood because Skjor had told them to... because Kodlak, Skjor, and Aela also had the beast blood, and they couldn't join the Circle without it...

Ysabyth just nodded with more tears welling in her eyes. "Telling him I was leaving was harder than facing Alduin," she added in a choked whispered, "he wasn't even mad... just... sad."

Vilkas had been watching and listening for hints of dishonesty, and the only thing he had been able to gage was that she seemed entirely too drunk to lie...

"Could you tell him no if he asked you to come back now?" He asked hopefully.

"I'd have to apologize and tell him I literally promised the gods I wouldn't," she said guiltily, "but yeah, I still won't go back."

"Can you promise _me_ you won't go back?" The question was out of his mouth before he'd fully processed his own thoughts on the matter...

She turned back to him with wide eyes, "Farkas, I promise I will never go back to thiev—"

"I told you to pretend I was Vilkas," he interrupted with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, " _Vilkas_ , I promise... I... I'm not a thief anymore. I'm sorry I took your sword, and I'm sorry I left..."

Vilkas smiled.

He believed her. He still needed to know more, but he could accept her story for now...

The logical side of his mind reminded him he was still going to need to think on how he felt about her... they’d need to get to know each other before he could actually trust her like she wanted him to— or act on anything his dreams put in his head... but he could at least accept her as a shield-sister...

"Apology accepted," he replied in a low tone as he gently reached out to take her hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him in drunken suspicion...

"Would Vilkas really say that, or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

Vilkas laughed... Ysmir, she was still drunk. "I'd bet money that'd be his response," he chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I feel like I should note; she’s only this weepy when drunk.


	6. Farkas’s Amulet

Not long after he concluded that Ysabyth was a worthy shield-sister, Vilkas decided he needed to get her to bed before she either passed out or sobered up enough to recognize him.

He managed to escort her to her bed in the common room for the whelps without getting himself into trouble, but when he got back toward his own room he stopped at Farkas's door... he still owed his brother a punch in the face... or at least maybe the shoulder...

He barged into Farkas's room without knocking, Farkas had likely heard and smelled him coming anyway...

Farkas was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding something, looking lost in thought, with a slight smile on his face. He looked up, only slightly startled as Vilkas entered.

"Damn it, brother, what in Oblivi—" Vilkas's words suddenly got caught in his throat as he realized what Farkas was holding...

"It's not what you're thinkin'," Farkas said quickly putting the amulet of Mara back in his pocket and getting to his feet.

Vilkas could feel his blood pounding in his ears and his jaw clenched as he tried to process this...

Farkas had gotten himself an amulet of Mara... and it had been years since he'd shown interest in anyone but Ysabyth...

Vilkas couldn't handle this... Ysabyth at least thought she wanted him, and Vilkas needed time to let that actually be true... he couldn't have Farkas trying to woo her away from him...

He didn't want a woman to come between him and his brother... but...

"It's not what you're thinkin'," Farkas repeated, clearly guessing how Vilkas's mind was turning.

"That's good," he growled, "because from my angle this looks a whole lot like I'm about to have a fight with my brother..."

"Calm down," Farkas rolled his eyes, "I saw her eyin' you at dinner so I told her to come 'ere and watch you get jealous."

"Care to explain why you're sitting here with Mara's amulet then?" Vilkas asked through gritted teeth.

To Vilkas's irritation, Farkas smirked at that. "You're worried it's for Ysa," he chuckled.

"Damn it, brother," Vilkas snarled. He threw a punch at Farkas's face that Farkas easily blocked, and followed it up with a quick jab that caught him off guard.

Farkas had been starting to laugh as he blocked, "it's not, it's— ow! Damn it, brother, Calm Down!"

Farkas caught one of Vilkas's fists and held on, but Vilkas lunged back at him him with his free hand.

"I said it's not for Ysa— ow, stop it!" Farkas snapped, only half managing to block Vilkas's third strike.

The words finally sank in and Vilkas stopped. Farkas grabbed his other arm and held tight. Vilkas sighed grumpily... from this position it was hit or miss which one of them could overpower the other, and Vilkas knew he was sure to break something in the small room if he tried.

"Explain then," Vilkas growled.

Farkas smirked and Vilkas realized he was probably going to have a bruise under his eye...

"You remember that girl from the farm outside of Riverwood? The one who joined the Whiterun guard?"

"The one you used to bring lavenders and purple mountain flowers back from every job we went on as whelps?" Vilkas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah," Farkas grinned, finally relaxing his grip on Vilkas's arms.

"Aye, but I thought you hadn't seen or heard from her in years..." Vilkas nodded in confusion, stepping back and crossing his arms.

"I hadn't, but I found her again," Farkas nodded, grinning a little wider, "she got promoted to housecarl."

Vilkas's brow furrowed in confusion at that, "that's... not good, brother," Vilkas shook his head, "housecarls swear their whole lives to the service of their master... they aren't allowed to get married..."

"She's not allowed to get married," Farkas nodded, " _unless_ she has permission from her Thane..."

Vilkas raised his eyebrows in surprise at that...

"That's what Ysa was tellin' me at dinner," Farkas continued, "she said she knew I had an amulet, and she'd give her permission if it was Lydia I wanted to ask."

"Hold on, back up," Vilkas shook his head, "how's Ysabyth connected to this?"

"Lydia's her housecarl." Farkas chuckled at Vilkas's surprised expression.

"So... have you planned when or how you'll ask her?" Vilkas asked, still trying to wrap his mind around this turn of events.

"Not yet," Farkas shook his head, "figure I need to bring her some more flowers, and probably ask her to dinner or somethin' at least once first... hope she still likes me..." he shrugged with a hopeful smile.

"I see..." Vilkas nodded slowly, "that's... probably a good idea."

"Now," Farkas grinned, "what happened with Ysa after you stormed off jealous? And don't try an' tell me nothin' happened, I can smell her soap on you."

Vilkas sighed and ran a hand down his face. He sat down at the bar trying the think where to begin... he did need to tell Farkas at least some of what happened... he sighed again in mild exasperation. "Can you smell the mead too?" He asked, "because I found her on the roof, too drunk to realize I wasn't you."

Farkas chuckled and sat down in the chair beside his bed. "How embarrassed d'she get when she found out you weren't me?"

"Uh... I might have... never corrected her..." Vilkas admitted sheepishly.

"You impersonated me?" Farkas asked in shock.

"I tried to correct her at first," Vilkas explained defensively, "but she just didn't believe I'd ever climb the roof for her..."

Farkas snorted. "I was gonna ask if you'd kissed her, but If she thought you were me, you better not have..."

"I didn't," Vilkas replied quickly.

Farkas raised an eyebrow again, "but you wanted to..." he smirked teasingly.

"Not with her thinking I was you, I didn't," Vilkas protested adamantly. "I... I just listened to her... and then helped her off the roof..."

"What'd she say?" Farkas asked curiously, still smirking a little smugly.

"Well she, uh..." Vilkas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "she started... confiding to... you... how she felt about me... and I..."

"You finally realized you like her?" Farkas smirked.

"I... uh... suppose you could say that..." Vilkas sighed, making Farkas's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I finally understand why Kodlak let her join us even though she used to be a thief..."

"She did?" Farkas cut in sounding even more surprised and confused.

"Aye," Vilkas said with another sigh, "she grew up an orphan in Riften... she sort of got recruited into the thieves' guild the same way we ended up in the Companions..."

Vilkas spent the next hour relaying to Farkas what Ysabyth had told him... he left out some details of course... he didn't see any reason for Farkas to know the woman had fantasized about him... especially since he didn't think he could mention that without Farkas immediately picking up on how happy he was about that... and, Talos help him, that wasn't a conversation he was ready for...

There were also a few points in the conversation trying to explain things to Farkas was simply irritating... Farkas wasn't stupid, but sometimes Vilkas wondered if he'd hit him in the head one too many times when they were younger... but tonight the problem was simply that Farkas had never had as much interest in reading as Vilkas had...

"Thought nightingales were birds," Farkas deadpanned when Vilkas paused to let the Nightingale part sink in.

"No, well, yes— but that's also the name for the agents of Nocturnal."

"Things that come out at night?"

"No!" Vilkas groaned, "I mean she was an agent of the patron of thieves!"

"Oh."

"Ysmir's beard, brother, did you read any of the books Jergen left us?"

"Some of 'em," Farkas shrugged, "thought all that was kids' stories though..."

"Aye, well, werewolves and dragons are supposedly just kids' stories too," Vilkas shrugged.

Farkas's brow furrowed at that. "Does that mean ghosts are real too?"

"Probably," Vilkas shrugged, "draugr and skeletons get up and wander their crypts, lost souls probably roam somewhere too."

Farkas scowled uncomfortably at that.

"Why? You scared of ghosts?" Vilkas chuckled.

"No," Farkas grumbled, "just don't like the idea of enemies I can't punch..."

"You fight plenty of things you can't punch," Vilkas argued, "wizards, flame atronachs, frostbite spiders..."

"And I don't like 'em," Farkas nodded emphatically. "Besides, I can punch all those things, I'm just smart enough to know I shouldn't get close enough to actually do it... a ghost though, my fist would go straight through... don't like that."

"I guess you have a point," Vilkas nodded.

"Anyway," Farkas waved his hand, "Ysa, thieves, birds, bad stuff, go on."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "She didn't say much about Nightingales other than that she was one..."

...and on Vilkas's explanation went. Farkas mostly didn't interrupt after that.

"So what're you gonna do about it now?" Farkas grinned once Vilkas had finished.

"I don't know," Vilkas shook his head, "I guess the first thing I need to do is ask her exactly what she's killed with my sword... then maybe... just... ask her to spar with me again...?"

"You should bring her some flowers," Farkas smirked.

"I was also thinking I could give her a good book," Vilkas shrugged.

Farkas rolled his eyes. "You would," he chuckled.


	7. Ponderings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, just entailing Vilkas deciding what to do next.  
> Next chapter should be up very shortly.

Vilkas didn't sleep well... not that he really ever did, but now it was thoughts of Ysabyth that kept his mind from settling...

His wolf spirit was particularly stuck on the notion that she'd been thinking of him for the last three years... wondering what she'd wanted him to do with her... remembering that adorable blush on her cheeks when he'd made her clarify that those fantasies had only been _mostly_ innocent...

Vilkas was slowly realizing Farkas had been right... about several things...

Vilkas had spent the last nearly three years listening in awe to the rumors and tales of the Dragonborn as she'd adventured across Skyrim... trying in vain to catch glimpses of her... he wanted to hear her stories. He wanted to go out on adventures with her... he wanted to face a dragon; that would be a real combat— the kind songs are sung about. He wanted to know her... to see what it was like to fight alongside such a legend.

He'd tried to put all those thoughts from his mind when he realized who she was...

He'd been angry —perhaps rightly so ...but he couldn't stay angry after tonight.

He thought over what she'd told him... there really was a lot to be said for turning away from the life you'd known to walk a more honorable path... he couldn't really fault her for the circumstances she'd been born into... honestly, he was glad she'd gotten out of Riften...

He felt guilty for the way he'd tricked her... it had been dishonest... not a direct lie, but no less dishonorable now that he thought about it...

He should tell her... or at least tell her he knew what she'd thought of him... maybe he could spare her pride by letting her believe he'd simply been eavesdropping... and ask her forgiveness for doing so...

...and see what she had to say about her fantasies then...

Vilkas smirked to himself, imagining how she might respond... remembering again how she'd blushed about it on the rooftop... imagining her getting flustered upon the realization that he knew...

Yes, that's what he wanted to do... he'd talk to her... he'd start this process of learning and getting to know her... but also see how she reacted to getting to know him...

She'd gotten the brunt of his angry side, and she was still trying to get over him... hopefully she wouldn't be able to once he began being kind to her...

Of course... he'd have to tease her a bit before he could truly be kind... his own pride wouldn't let him just flip his behavior on her...

And he was sure teasing her would be fun... besides that, he got the impression she was a woman who could handle it.

With that conclusion in his mind, Vilkas finally managed to doze off into a fitful sleep full of vivid dreams...

Vivid dreams of what he hoped some of Ysabyth's fantasies had involved...

Vilkas wasn't surprised to discover he needed new laundry and a trip to the washroom in the morning...


	8. Poking a Dragon

Once he finished cleaning up, late the next morning, Vilkas dragged himself upstairs. Ysabyth was outside, working on her archery... Vilkas was surprised she didn't seem to have a hangover. He wondered if she'd actually been as drunk as he'd thought...

She glanced up as he came out and she scowled at him.

"What?" Vilkas raised his eyebrows questioningly in response as he walked out to the edge of the porch.

"I saw what you did to Farkas's eye," she replied in an accusing tone as she lowered her bow, "if you've got that much of a problem with me being friends with your brother, you could take it up with me."

"Oh?" Vilkas replied in mock surprise, "you're _just friends_ with my brother? You two looked a little more than _just_ friendly last night..."

She rolled her eyes. "I know he told you he was just trying to get a reaction out of you."

"He did..." Vilkas nodded. He stepped out to the yard where he could speak more quietly to her... "I'm curious just what kind of reaction _you_ were hoping to get out of me," he said in a low tone.

He heard her pulse jump but she outwardly showed now reaction... he realized he'd been right; teasing her was definitely going to be fun...

"I honestly couldn't tell you," she grumbled, "it was Farkas's idea."

"I know it was Farkas's idea," Vilkas smirked, "but I want to know what would make _you_ go along with such a scheme..."

Ysabyth swallowed, looking a little uncomfortable... "I don't know, maybe it was the alcohol," she grumbled. She grabbed another arrow, nocked it to her bow string, and turned back to face the target.

"Were you hoping I'd stomp across the hall and pull you away from him?" Vilkas smirked and stepped closer behind her as she took aim. "Take you in my arms," he suggested quietly, "hold you, and tell you how you impress me?"

Ysabyth released her arrow, completely missing the target and turned back to face him looking startled. She stepped back to create more distance between them and the look on her face reminded him of a cornered deer.

"Why in Oblivion would you think I'd want something like that?" Her brow furrowed at him, but he could hear her heart racing.

"Oh, I don't know," Vilkas smirked, "you're the Dragonborn, you saved Skyrim, you take care of everyone else... might be nice to have someone to hold you and take care of you?"

Her eyes went wide... "he didn't..." she mumbled, and her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of red. She looked angry now...

Then she suddenly turned, put her bow back on her back and stalked off toward the porch.

"Where are you going?" Vilkas chuckled as he chased after her.

"To black Farkas's other eye," she grumbled.

"Hold on," Vilkas laughed, but Ysabyth ignored him and kept walking. "Damn it woman, wait," he said, still laughing as he reached and caught her hand.

"What?" She snapped, turning back to him with an embarrassed looking glare as she wrenched her hand out of his.

"Calm down," he said, trying not to chuckle more, "Farkas didn't tell me anything, I..." Vilkas took a deep breath. The look on her face made him feel as though he'd just poked a dragon... he decided he should probably put the teasing on hold for a bit. "Forgive me..." he began seriously looking her in the eyes, "last night, I... _may_ have been listening to... what you thought was a private conversation with Farkas..."

The angry glint in her lovely green eyes slowly shifted fully to a surprised and embarrassed expression... her blush darkened and he heard her pulse increase. By Ysmir, she was adorable...

"I know I shouldn't have," Vilkas continued earnestly, "but my curiosity got the better of me. Please, leave my brother out of this, he's not to blame."

She blinked at him uneasily and took a shaky breath... she was back to looking like a cornered animal again... "so you were listening when I said..."

"Aye," Vilkas smirked, "I heard everything." He took a step closer and reached for her hand but she pulled back.

"Well... I was drunk," she grumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, "so you shouldn't put too much stock in any of it."

"Unfortunate," Vilkas shrugged, still smirking, "I found what I heard to be... endearing, actually..."

"Like what?" She grumbled skeptically as she stepped past him, back to the yard.

"Like your memories of Sovengarde," Vilkas smiled, following her as she readied her bow again, "how you promised you were finished with thieving..."

She glanced back over her shoulder at him, still looking embarrassed and skeptical. "That part was true," she mumbled before taking aim again.

Vilkas just watched for a moment as she loosed her arrow and it flew to the center of the target.

"I'm also sorry that was what it took for me to hear you out on the matter," he told her genuinely as she nocked her next arrow.

He heard her heart jump again, but she seemed to be trying to ignore him. He watched her take aim and then her arrow embedded itself in the target right next to her last, and she grabbed another arrow.

"I would like to go back to sparring with you, if that's what you want," he said quietly.

Her next arrow hit the top of the target and she looked back at him in surprise. He gave her a small, sincere smile at that... and then barely resisted the urge to smirk as he heard her pulse jump more.

"I... I guess I wouldn't mind..." she nodded, "if you want a sparring partner again..."

"Aye," Vilkas smiled wider, "I'd also like to sit and swap a few stories, maybe have a few drinks..."

She swallowed nervously, but there was a small smile on her face now. "We... we could do that..." then her eyes got a bit of a mischievous glint to them as she smirked, "though I bet I've got more epic stories than you..."

Vilkas chuckled. "Farkas and I got up to our fair share of trouble as whelps," he shrugged, "but you probably do."


	9. Swapping Stories

Vilkas's heart skipped as he saw Ysabyth come upstairs for supper. He'd spent the afternoon sparring with her, and now she was freshly washed, coming back upstairs in a dress again...

Vilkas was pretty sure it was the same brown corset, and the dress she wore with it this time looked similar, but it was hemmed with green. He could smell the snowberries from her soap from across the hall.

By Ysmir, and Vilkas thought she got his blood going while sparring...

He was disappointed when she sat with Ria and Farkas, but she looked across the hall and met his eyes with an apologetic smirk, almost like they had some shared secret and it made Vilkas's heart jump.

Vilkas sat in his usual spot and ate his food... mostly in peace... looking at Ysabyth from across the hall kept his blood a bit riled up.

When they finished dinner and several people began to scatter in different directions, Vilkas grabbed a couple of mugs of mead. He made eye contact with Ysabyth again and nodded toward the back doors. To his delight, she smiled and nodded before getting up to follow him.

Outside was quieter, and there was a refreshing chill to the breeze making it a bit cooler than it had been the night before. Vilkas was grateful the back porch was deserted, and took a seat beside one the small tables at the edge of the porch, where they could look out from under the awning and see the moons rising over the distant mountains.

He was only out there for a few moments before the doors opened and Ysabyth joined him. Vilkas tried desperately to hide his smirk as he noticed her pulse sounded nervous.

"So," she smiled as she sat in the chair beside his and accepted the mug he offered, "what were you wanting to talk about?"

"There were a few things I heard you tell Farkas that caught my attention," Vilkas replied. He watched as she took a sip of her mead... his eyes trailing from her face down her neck... to... the front of her dress... he noticed this dress was lower cut than the one she'd worn last night... he wondered if she'd done that on purpose...

"Like what?"

Vilkas's eyes snapped back to hers to find she was smirking at him... he was pretty sure she knew where his eyes had just been, and he felt his face heating slightly.

Vilkas cleared his throat. "For starters, I'd like to know what all you've done with my sword," he shrugged, trying to keep his tone casual, "how exaggerated are the legends of the Dragonborn?" He asked with a smirk.

"I guess that depends who's stories you've been listening to," she shook her head, "some of the things I'm more proud of probably never made it to the songs..."

"Like what?" Vilkas asked curiously.

"Let's see..." she said thoughtfully, "with your sword... aside from Alduin... I killed the old caretaker of Honor Hall Orphanage... the leader of the Dark Brotherhood... the last guild master of the thieves guild..."

Vilkas listened to her stories in wide-eyed fascination. She explained how she'd killed the awful woman who'd been abusing the orphans in Riften, and then how that had gotten her on the wrong end of the group of assassins, and of the bloody aftermath of that.

As her stories went on, he was amazed to learn she'd actually been behind most of the events in Skyrim over the last three years... he finally understood what had happened with the thieves guild, but he hadn't expected her to have been involved in the civil war...

Then she pointed out that he'd suggested swapping stories, not just listening to hers. Vilkas knew he didn't have much to compare with the adventures she'd lived, but he told her as many stories as he could think of... of the trouble he and Farkas used to get into, daring each other to do stupid things, pulling pranks on each other... and of course of some of his more glorious hunting trips and Companions' jobs... he had at least been called on to rescue several citizens over the years, and those made good stories.

By the end of the evening he'd even told her of how he and Farkas had been rescued as small children and brought to Jorrvaskr.

The whole while Ysabyth listened to him as if his stories of daring Farkas to try mammoth cheese were just as interesting as her stories of riding a dragon to Sovengarde.

Vilkas was enjoying himself so much he actually forgot about finishing his drink.

So he knew it wasn't the alcohol talking well after midnight, when he finally decided he was ready to ask about the thing that had been on his mind since the night before when she'd said it on the roof...

"There was something else you said last night, I'm still very curious about," he began, the teasing smirk coming back to his face.

"Oh no," she grumbled as she saw his smirk, and Vilkas noticed her pulse jumped nervously again, "what'd I say?"

Vilkas's smirk widened. "Oh just something about thinking of me every time you drew my sword... and the... fantasies that turned into..."

Ysabyth's cheeks flushed a deep, adorable shade of pink and she clapped her hand to her face. "Oh gods, I didn't," she groaned.

"You did," Vilkas nodded teasingly.

"Gods, I never should have gotten that drunk," she swore, shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands.

"Ah, but then I'd never have learned such interesting things," Vilkas chuckled, "I like learning interesting things," he continued teasing, "I want to know what you fantasized about..."

Vilkas grinned as he heard her pulse jump more. Then she took a deep breath, looking up at him from between her fingers.

"It honestly was mostly innocent things," she mumbled. He could see her blush was much darker behind her hands.

"Like what?" Vilkas prodded in amusement.

"Just... just silly girlish things," she shook her head.

"Silly girlish things?" Vilkas repeated. "Like walking through the fields of wildflowers together?" He teased, "or do you want me to braid flowers into your hair?"

Her hands finally came away from her face again as she laughed at that... she was still blushing as red as the snowberries she smelled like, but she was, clearly trying to regain her composure. "Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes, "like I need you knotting my hair up with flowers."

"Who says I'd knot it up?" Vilkas raised his eyebrows.

"Are you trying to tell me you can braid hair?" She countered.

"As a matter of fact, I can," Vilkas nodded smugly. "Haven't had any reason to practice in a long while, but I was taught how as a boy," he added when she responded with a skeptical look.

"Mmhmm," she smirked, "I still bet you'd make an awful mess of it if you tried now..."

She looked away and ran her hand a little awkwardly into her own hair then...

Vilkas raised his eyebrow at her... he'd thought at first she was trying to deflect his question entirely, but now she seemed to be...

No... wait...

Was she _challenging_ him?

Her hair was hanging loose about her shoulders as usual... it had been still damp when she came up for dinner, and now it hung in wild waves across her shoulders... Vilkas suddenly realized he'd never seen her wear it any other way...

Then he smirked at the way her pulse jumped again as she looked back to his face and saw how he was considering her...

She really did want him to sit and fix her hair, didn't she? To have someone simply take care of her...

Vilkas's heart jumped...

Ysmir's beard... had that actually been one of her fantasies?

It was obviously one of the innocent ones if it was, but still... it was certainly something he could do...

"Alright, I'll take that bet," he chuckled as he got out of his chair, "come here..."

Vilkas sat on the table and pulled his chair around in front of him.

"Y-You... wait, what?" She looked up at him with surprised, wide eyes.

"You said you bet I'd make an awful mess if I tried to braid your hair, right? Well, I bet, if you'll let me, I can braid your hair," Vilkas replied, trying not to chuckle too much at her shock. "Neatly," he clarified a moment later when she looked about to protest.

"Y-you... actually _want_... to braid my hair?" She asked in disbelief.

"Why not?" He smiled, "you seem to not believe I can, and I love a challenge..."

"But... I... I mean... you..." she fumbled for words before shaking her head, then she took a deep breath. "Ok," she sighed at last, "i-if you want to..."

"Come, sit here," Vilkas smiled, gesturing to the chair in front of him again. Ysabyth eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but then got up and moved to the chair in front of him. She sat up straight and stiff, seemingly trying not to lean against him.

Vilkas gently reached out and ran his fingers through her hair... it was soft and clean but had a few tangles...

"Do you have a comb?" He asked.

"I... uh... it's downstairs," she mumbled.

"Do you mind if I use mine?"

"I... guess not..." she looked over her shoulder at him uncertainly as he pulled his own sandalwood comb from his pocket to show her. "O-ok," she nodded.

She turned her back to him again and Vilkas experimentally ran his fingers through her hair again, and along her scalp... she tensed at his touch. Vilkas suddenly realized her pulse and breathing sounded nervous... she wasn't just sitting up rigidly, her whole body was tense...

"You can relax," he whispered, "I won't hurt you..." he set the comb down and slowly slid his hands down her neck to gently rub her tensed shoulders... which seemed to have the opposite of his intended effect... her pulse jumped and he heard her breath catch in her throat.

Vilkas let go and shifted to the side of the table to look at her. Her face was still as red as a snowberry.

"What's wrong?" He raised his eyebrows at her. Had he misunderstood and overstepped somewhere? She certainly hadn't been this uncomfortable last night...

"N-nothing," she shook her head, she looked almost startled now.

"I know I'm a little brutal to spar with," he said earnestly, "but I promise, I can be gentle when I care to."

"It... it's not that," she shook her head again, "I don't know— I mean... no one's ever..." she trailed off looking more embarrassed and Vilkas suddenly realized what she was getting at...

"No one's ever been gentle with you, have they?"

She looked a little startled by that, but then her face fell. "No... not exactly," she whispered, "no one's ever really fixed my hair... or rubbed my shoulders... or... or anything like that," she admitted quietly.

Vilkas's heart clenched as those words sank in... "by Ysmir..." he swore in disbelief.

The Dragonborn who'd saved the world and taken care of everyone else... and she'd never so much as had a shield-sibling help rub the aches out of her shoulders...

That just wasn't right...

He needed to fix that...

"Ysabyth," he said gently, "will you let me change that? Let me take care of you?"

She blinked at him in surprise, looking speechless for several moments, but then a smile suddenly spread across her face. "You do know my name," she teased.

Vilkas was caught off guard, but only for a moment. "Of course I do," he chuckled, "I said you were arrogant to assume I'd remember it... not that I didn't..."

"Oh, so you were just being an ass," she laughed.

"I was," Vilkas admitted, "but I've actually remembered since the first time I heard it... back when you introduced yourself to Kodlak." He smiled at the way her teasing smile shifted back to a look of surprise at that.

"So, by... take care of me... you mean...?" She trailed off uncertainly, looking nervous again, and Vilkas could help but chuckle quietly.

"Let me start with fixing your hair and helping you relax," Vilkas smirked, "then let me be your shield-brother and your friend... and, I'd like to see what happens from there."

She blinked at him in disbelief for a moment, before a beautiful smile spread slowly across her face. "Ok," she nodded, "I... I think I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed to write something fluffy tonight.  
> Irl, I love it when my husband sits and braids my hair.


	10. Winning a Bet

It had actually been a long while since Vilkas had braided anything, and with as tense as Ysabyth was at first, she didn't make it easy for him. Fortunately though, as he told her more stories, mostly the sillier ones from his childhood now, she finally began to relax, and she let him start over on her hair a few times. Then, with still a few hours before the sky would begin to get light, Vilkas managed to tie a strip of leather around the end of a neat French braid that hung just past the top of her shoulder.

"And with that," Vilkas smirked as he let the braid hang over one of her shoulders, "I believe I've won a bet."

Ysabyth reached up and carefully felt her hair, with a look of slight awe on her face.

"You... my hair's braided..." she said like she couldn't believe it.

"It is," Vilkas nodded, "and it looks quite nice, if I do say so myself," he added, and his smirk began to look a little more like a cocky grin.

Ysabyth looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk of her own and Vilkas was suddenly struck by the realization of just how Nordic she actually looked with her hair braided.

"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or stroking your own ego," she teased.

"Perhaps both," Vilkas chuckled and winked at her.

To his satisfaction she blushed, and Vilkas heard her pulse jump as she got up from the chair. She turned to face him, and Vilkas guessed she was about to tell him goodnight... but he wasn't ready to let her... not yet...

"So... what do I win?" He asked with a curious smirk.

"Huh?" She cocked her eyebrow at him in confusion.

"You did say you _bet_ I couldn't braid your hair," he reminded her, "but you never specified the terms..."

Her cheeks were still adorably pink, and she furrowed her brow at him with an expression that looked like she was about to argue... but then she sighed and shook her head.

"I guess I did say that..." she mumbled looking at her feet. "Wh-what do you want to win?" She asked sheepishly glancing back to meet his eyes.

...Oh that was a loaded question, Vilkas thought... there were a lot of things he wanted, especially considering how lovely she looked in that dress, blushing at him in the moonlight... but several of those things weren't exactly proper, and he'd been raised far better than that...

So what to request?

He considered asking simply for a kiss... but he really wanted to earn that much less coercively...

Then Vilkas suddenly remembered he had a job he needed to get done soon and it gave him an appealing idea...

"I think," he began, getting off the table and taking a step toward her, "I would like for you to accompany me on a job," he suggested with a smile, "a hunt or something where I can actually see you impress... your stories impress me... intrigue me... I want to actually see what you can do." He tried reaching for her hand again, and to his delight, she didn't pull back this time. "I'd like to win more time with you," he said in a low tone as he took her hand.

Ysabyth just blinked, looking up at him in surprise, and Vilkas could hear her pulse racing... by Ysmir, she was a beauty...

"A-Alright," she agreed in a stunned whisper, "I... I can agree to those terms... if that's what you want." She seemed to be trying to regain her composure now, and Vilkas thought that was adorable too.

"Aye," he smirked. Then he slowly reached up and ran his finger gently along the scar on the side of her face. "I still haven't heard _all_ of your stories... and... I'd like to be part of the new ones."

She shuddered slightly at his touch and took a small step back, but didn't pull her hand from his.

"Did... did you h-have a job in mind?" She asked quietly.

"I have a simple job in the Rift I need to deal with soon," Vilkas shrugged, "I was planning to leave for that tomorrow."

"Oh," her face fell a little, "Skjor said he had something for me tomorrow."

"Ah," Vilkas nodded, feeling considerably disappointed. "Well, I doubt I'll be gone more than a few days, we can go together for the next job," he suggested hopefully.

Ysabyth took a deep breath and nodded, "we can do that. I have no idea what Skjor wants, but if I'm back before you I can just tell them all you had something for me."

"And I'll wait if I get back before you," Vilkas grinned. "I would like to see you before I leave tomorrow though."

At that, she blushed a little more, but looked out at the sky a little regretfully. "In that case, I should probably head to bed now," she said, "if you're going to want me up at any reasonable hour..."

Vilkas sighed as he reluctantly let go of her hand, "I probably should as well, or else I won't be leaving at any reasonable hour."

They made their way back inside. Vilkas followed as Ysabyth headed down the stairs. She paused at the door to the common bedroom and smiled over her shoulder at him.

"Goodnight," she whispered, "I enjoyed tonight."

"I did too," Vilkas replied quietly.

He reached back to take her hand again, and her pulse jumped and she looked up at him with a startled expression, but she didn’t pull away. He smirked and briefly considered taking things further than he’d originally planned, but thought better of it. Instead he simply lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss to the the back of her hand.

Her blush turned at least two shades darker and Vilkas heard her breath catch in her throat.

“Goodnight, Ysabyth,” he whispered, slowly letting her hand drop.

“G-Goodnight,” she repeated quietly.

And Vilkas couldn’t help but grin at the shy smile she gave him before she turned and disappeared through the doorway.


	11. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas ponders things and discovers a little more information on Ysabyth...

Vilkas was lost in thought almost his entire trip to Riften. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a silly sense of happiness and dread at the same time...

Ysabyth had gotten out of bed in time to see him off, and had even let him kiss her hand without pulling away or looking startled. That had put a happy, light feeling in his chest... but Vilkas noticed a little too late that Farkas was in the hall with Athis and Torvar, and his brother had seen the whole exchange.

Vilkas had a pretty good guess Farkas was going to tease both of them mercilessly... and he was desperately hoping that wouldn't keep Ysabyth from going with him on their next job.

Vilkas was also a little surprised with himself... at how quickly she had won him over once he let go of his grudge... if she hadn't run off with his sword, he might have been head-over-heals for her in the first place... which was an unusual idea for Vilkas...

He had tried his luck at courting a few women in the past... it wasn't uncommon for an attractive woman would catch his eye... but all of those never made it past the first few flirtatious interactions before Vilkas found the woman either had some quirk that annoyed him, or that she absolutely bored him in conversation. That, along with his temper, had earned him the reputation of being a bit of an asshole.

But as far as Vilkas could tell so far, the only thing about Ysabyth that put him off was the thieving... and that was all behind her now... she'd not only promised him, but had promised the gods themselves that she wasn't a thief anymore. Not to mention her explanation of how she'd ended up a thief was something Vilkas felt was forgivable...

He knew he wasn't perfect himself... he especially wasn’t going to hold her past against her if she was willing to overlook his beast blood...

And she certainly didn't bore him... her stories fascinated him, and she could spar with him like no one else. For most of their lives Farkas had been the only one Vilkas could train all-out with, and visa-versa. Vilkas was pretty sure he'd enjoy sparring with Ysabyth even if he had no attraction to the woman. She was fun to fight, and Vilkas was pretty sure she could actually beat him, which was not something he admitted often.

He wondered if he'd ever get to see her fight a dragon... or better yet, help her fight a dragon... by Ysmir, he hoped he would...

Vilkas made it to Riften after two nights camping. He never slept well on the road, the sounds of innocent wildlife begging to be hunted always kept him on edge. Trying to ignore the urge to hunt always made him grumpy, and he was in a relatively bad mood by the time he reached the Riften gates.

He was so grumpy he'd almost gotten in a fight with the guard who'd attempted to charge him a visitor's tax at the gate... fortunately the guard had been clearly intimidated by him and very hastily backed down when Vilkas argued.

Once he got into town it didn't take long to track down the likely location of his client's stolen heirloom— some old mace that Vilkas was pretty sure was worth less than they were paying him to retrieve it, but that wasn't his business. The mace was likely in the possession of a group of bandits that had set up just north of the city— that was something Vilkas could handle... he always liked it when he got paid to do what amounted to a service to society... like dispatching a bunch of murderous, thieving cowards.

Typically, Riften was a town Vilkas preferred to avoid, so his plan was to be on his way as soon as he found the information he needed. He was on his way back to the city gates when a reddish color caught the corner of his eye. The same color of Ysabyth's hair...

He felt a little silly for stopping and turning as excitedly as he did. He knew it couldn't be Ysabyth... he would have caught her scent much sooner in his trip if she had followed him, and he certainly would have noticed her scent in the market...

Instead, Vilkas turned to see a Nord man, probably about fifteen or so years older than he was, wearing fine merchants' clothes, tending one of the stalls. He had shoulder length, red hair, the exact same shade as Ysabyth's.

Curiously, Vilkas headed back to the market. The man was harking some supposedly amazing elixir that could do everything from grow back a missing limb to allow one to instantly learn the secrets of the universe. Vilkas resisted the urge to outwardly roll his eyes.

As Vilkas approached the man looked up at him with distinctly hazel green eyes, and Vilkas was suddenly very sure he had an idea how Ysabyth seemed to be built like a Nord but otherwise appeared to be a small Breton...

The man gave him a quick appraising look.

"Ah, a Companion," he greeted with a salesman's smile, "can I interest you in a bottle of my falmer blood elixir? It works wonders after a hard battle!"

"I'm actually interested in some information," Vilkas shook his head, quickly trying to think how to approach what he wanted to know...

The red-headed Nord narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I don't deal in free information, lad," he said warningly.

"I can work with that," Vilkas shrugged casually, "I'm curious what you know of a woman who introduced herself as Ysabyth of Riften..." Vilkas watched carefully for the man's reaction and was not disappointed.

He was definitely a practiced liar, skilled at keeping his composure, he looked relatively calm and suspicious as his brow furrowed, but Vilkas heard from his pulse that that question had made him anything but calm. He glanced around, Vilkas assumed looking to see if anyone would over-hear them, then he looked back to Vilkas with a suspicious glare.

"What's the likes of you want with my little Ysa?"

"It was just a casual inquiry," Vilkas replied with an innocent smirk. That clearly made the man less comfortable.

"If she's got a bounty we can pay it," he said firmly, "and she's the Dragonborn besides that, any Jarl in Skyrim would surely pardon whatever—"

"It's nothing like that," Vilkas interrupted with a laugh, "she's a friend. I take it you're her father then?"

The redhead looked utterly shocked at the blunt question, but still watched him with a mistrustful glare. He glanced around again before looking back to Vilkas, and his eyes had an angry glint to them that Vilkas was positive he recognized.

"Aye, that's a possibility," he admitted.

"A possibility?" Vilkas repeated in amused disbelief.

The man scowled. "Aye, a _possibility_ ," he repeated, "I've suspected since I learned she was born, but her mother never said, so I could never be certain."

Vilkas raised an eyebrow skeptically at that and the man scowled more.

"I've still done what I could to look out for her though," he added glaring at Vilkas as if he expected to be challenged on that statement.

"Ah, so I take it you're Brynjolf," Vilkas replied.

That made the man raise his eyebrows in mild surprise. "Aye," he nodded slowly.

"She told me you were the only one who'd always been there for her," Vilkas elaborated sincerely, "she just never mentioned you were her father."

Brynjolf seemed to deflate a little at that. "I'm not sure she knows," he admitted a little sheepishly, "I'm sure she suspects, but we've never discussed it..."

"I see," Vilkas nodded. "When was the last time you saw her?" He asked curiously.

Brynjolf narrowed his eyes again, but now he looked more sad than angry... still just as mistrustful though...

"I said I don't deal in free information, lad," he scowled, "you want any more out of me, you either pay with coin or information of your own."

"What information are you interested in?" Vilkas shrugged, and he couldn't help a little bit of a cocky smirk...

"Start with who are you," Brynjolf growled, "and why you're asking about my lass..."

Vilkas held up his hands in a gesture showing he had nothing to hide, "Vilkas of the Companions," he answered, "and honestly, I was only passing through and noticed the family resemblance, so I was curious."

"How do you know her?" Brynjolf asked, still suspicious.

"She's joined us," Vilkas replied, "she defeated the World Eater, and now she's a Companion; an honorable shield-sister."

"She... she's really doing alright then?" He asked, eyebrows raised in hopeful surprise.

"Better than alright," Vilkas nodded, "she brings honor to the Compnions... not to mention plenty of coin."

Brynjolf smiled at that.

"That's good to hear, lad. I..." he paused with a sigh, "when she told me she had to leave our organization to face the dragons... I knew she was done with the business, but I didn't realize she wouldn't be coming home at all once it was over." He shook his head sadly and Vilkas suddenly felt less smug, and more sorry for the man...

"I can tell her, when I get home..." Vilkas offered, trailing off uncertainly... he wasn't sure what he was actually offering... he didn't really want Ysabyth coming back to Riften... but he didn't want to keep her from actual family who cared about her...

"I'd appreciate that," Brynjolf sighed, "tell her... the business is getting along fine, but... her old man misses her."

"Will do," Vilkas nodded earnestly.

He felt relieved it didn't sound like he expected her to return to the guild, but that could be a rouse...

Vilkas decided he'd definitely want to come with her if she returned to Riften... just to be safe...

He bid a polite farewell to Brynjolf and got back to his job, setting off for the bandit hideout. He had a little more to think about for the rest of his trip.


	12. A Disagreement

Vilkas handled the bandits with ease and returned the family's old mace. He was returning to Whiterun five days after he'd left, and he was excited to be home.

As he walked through the streets he caught just a hint of Ysabyth's scent on the wind, and it made his heart feel light. Vilkas smiled as he walked up the steps and opened the doors to Jorrvaskr...

...and found the hall deserted... with the exception of an unusually broody looking Farkas...

Farkas was sitting at the table with a furrowed brow, chewing on a chunk of bread, looking lost in thought.

"Where in Oblivion is everyone?" Vilkas asked in bewilderment.

Farkas looked up with a slight start. "Good, you're back," he said putting down his bread and getting to his feet. "Skjor and Kodlak had an argument and Skjor’s gone off. Aela went after him. I sent Athis and Torvar off to hunt, and Njada took Ria for a job in Falkreath..."

Vilkas followed as Farkas talked while they headed downstairs.

"And Ysabyth?" Vilkas asked, when they reached the bottom steps without Farkas mentioning her.

Farkas glanced back over his shoulder with a grim expression that made an uncomfortable dread settle into Vilkas's chest.

"Haven't seen her since Skjor tried to initiate her..." Farkas replied.

"He _what_?" Vilkas demanded in shock.

"That's what he and Kodlak had a fight over," Farkas continued as they walked down the empty hall, "apparently he tried to give Ysa the beast blood and she refused, so they had a fight, and she ran off."

"When?" Vilkas asked uneasily.

"Four days ago," Farkas replied.

Vilkas felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Has anyone gone looking for her?"

"A few times," Farkas nodded, "but even Lydia hasn't seen her, and I can't be sure if it's her I keep smellin' around town or someone else who uses snowberry soap. I lose the scent every time I leave the city... was hopin' you'd be able to pick out her scent a little better than I can."

"Aye, I can do that," Vilkas nodded determinedly.

He was sure he could pick out her scent... he had to. He'd told her he'd take care of her, that he'd be her shield-brother... and Vilkas was a man of his word; he'd track her across Skyrim if he needed to...

He followed Farkas to speak with Kodlak, not bothering to even put down his travel gear.

Kodlak seemed as relieved to see him as Farkas had been, and quickly filled him on what had occurred while he was out...

There wasn't much information beyond what Farkas had already told him... Skjor had apparently disregarded Kodlak's advice, asked Ysabyth to meet him in secret, and offered her the beast blood...

Vilkas's blood boiled. If he knew Skjor, he'd bet the word 'offered' was a rather loose term... especially based on how Kodlak had gotten wind of the whole event...

"She shouted at him?" Vilkas asked in alarm...

"Shook the whole skyforge," Farkas nodded.

Vilkas took a deep breath. "We need to find Ysabyth," he said tensely. He was worried... what had Skjor done to make her resort to using her thuum? Had he hurt her? What had he told her?

Vilkas feared the worst... now she was probably off somewhere thinking she wouldn't be welcomed back... would she resort to going back to the thieves if she thought she'd ruined her chances with the Companions?

"Does this mean you need a new successor or—"

"No, no," Kodlak shook his head...

Vilkas was pulled from his thoughts by Farkas's question... and he was tempted to argue with Kodlak's answer...

"Skjor and I have had many a disagreement," Kodak continued, "and I'm sure we'll have many more. He'll be back. That's what family does, we fight, we argue, we get angry, but at the end of it all, there's still love and respect. Skjor has been here long enough to understand that. My concern is for Ysabyth." Kodlak paused, looking seriously from Vilkas to Farkas and back again.

Vilkas gave a tense nod and Kodlak continued.

"She hasn't been here long enough to understand that we mean it when we say we're a family, and she's never had much of an example of what family means before. I'm afraid she may take Skjor's words about the blood to heart."

"I'll find her," Vilkas volunteered quickly.

"Now, I know you don't like her, b— oh," Kodlak stopped mid-sentence looking surprised, and Farkas smirked.

"I've already done her the disservice of running her off and thinking the worst of her once," Vilkas explained, "I owe it to her to help now."

"So you've changed your opinion of her since we last spoke..." Kodlak raised his eyebrow curiously.

"Aye," Vilkas nodded, "you told me to give her a chance, and I did. I'll stand by her now."

"Good," Kodlak nodded with a smile, "I was going to say, before she returned to us, I had a vision of her helping us to fight a massive beast... I believe she may be the key to ending our curse..."

Vilkas blinked in surprise at that... Kodlak wasn't one to typically put much stock in dreams or visions, so if this one had grabbed his attention it must mean something.

"Then let's not waste more time," he said, quickly getting to his feet.

"You're sure you don't need a rest, boy?" Kodlak raised his eyebrow in surprise.

"I'll rest when my shield-sister is home," Vilkas replied as he headed for the door.

"Then Talos guide you, lad," Kodlak sighed, "I hope none of you do anything foolish over this."

"Aye, I won't," Vilkas assured him before leaving.

  
  


"You know Ysa can take care of herself, right?" Farkas prodded as he followed him down the hall.

"Of course she can," Vilkas grumbled, "but having a shield-brother means she shouldn't have to... not alone at least."

Vilkas continued urgently down the hall, but paused angrily a moment later when he heard Farkas chuckle quietly behind him.

"What?" Vilkas demanded, looking back over his shoulder.

"Aela owes me a hundred gold," Farkas replied smugly.

Vilkas scowled. "Then you're buying the next time we have a reason to go out for drinks," he retorted irritably before turning head back upstairs.


	13. Assurance

Farkas volunteered to go visit Ysabyth's manner again and ask if Lydia had heard from her yet. Vilkas tried not to be annoyed at Farkas's eagerness to be the one to go see Lydia... it was at least probably a useful thing to do.

Ysabyth had told Vilkas about the manner, the one night he'd gotten to spend talking to her... it was in the very south of Dawnstar's territory, and actually closer to Whiterun than it was to Dawnstar. She could actually see Dragonsreach from her balcony, or at least so she'd said.

Vilkas was curious to see the manner himself, but he didn't expect Ysabyth to be there now.

He was certain he'd smelled her scent on the wind when he'd first arrived in town... and he didnt think he would confuse her scent with another woman using snowberry soap... which meant she was still in town... or at least had been recently.

He wandered aimlessly through town, trying to catch every scent on the wind in the late afternoon light. He didn't expect darkness to make things easier. He meandered behind buildings, and along the walls, frequently stopping to just breath...

Then, finally, as the sun was just beginning to approach the horizon, the wind shifted and Vilkas smelled it... just a whiff of snowberries, fire, and leather... his heart jumped as he turned to see which direction it had come from...

Hurriedly, he followed the scent off to the other side of Dragonsreach, opposite of Jorrvaskr... for several minutes he looked around the small area behind the temple of Kynareth... he was confused...

He could smell her clearly, but distantly... but there was nowhere else for her to be... there was no further within the walls of Whiterun he could go... so she had to be either outside the walls or...

Vilkas stopped in his tracks and looked up.

Up... to the roof of Dragonsreach... where finally, he laid eyes on her as she stepped seemingly intentionally into view, standing on the peak of the roof of the palace...

She was wearing her dragon-scale armor with the exception of the helmet, and her hair was hanging loose, and blowing slightly in the wind. In the light of the setting sun her hair looked like fire and her dragon scales glittered like gems... like some description of the divines in one of his books. All Vilkas could do was stare.

Had she been watching him? Waiting for him maybe?

How in Oblivion had she gotten up there?

He watched in baffled amazement as she walked with perfect balance along the peak of the roof, and then nimbly began to make her way down... sliding down the roof, gracefully catching and swinging herself down once she reached the edge. Then finally, she dropped to the ground in front of him, looking up at him with a sad, sheepish smile.

"Ysabyth," he breathed in a mix of awe and relief.

"Vilkas, I'm sorry, I—"

"Are you alright?" He interrupted. He quickly closed the distance between them and reached to take her hands.

"I... yes..." she nodded in confused surprise.

Vilkas took both of her hands in one of his and reached up with the other to sweep a few strands of hair out of her face.

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked thoroughly startled, but she didn't seem to be hurt at all.

"Thank the divines," he sighed, "you had me worried."

She swallowed and looked down, pulling gently away from him, looking ashamed of something. Vilkas let his hand drop from the side of her face, but held a little tighter to one of her hands.

"Vilkas, I'm sorry," she repeated quietly, looking at her feet.

"What for?" Vilkas asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I... I messed up... I'm sure Kodak means to throw me out of the Companions now," she whispered sadly.

"Why would you think that?" Vilkas asked in a gentle tone.

"Well I... I mean..." she trailed off, looking back up at him regretfully, "Skjor wanted me to take the beast blood... he said I had to accept the blood to be one of you... and I..." she looked back to her feet looking ashamed again, "I don't take being pressured very well... I... I shouted him into a stone wall..." she admitted quietly.

"Aye," Vilkas nodded, "and from what I heard, I'd wager he deserved it."

She quirked her eyebrows in confusion and looked up at him. "Y-you heard?"

"Aye," Vilkas nodded again.

"And you... you're not mad?" She asked in confused surprise.

"Not at you," Vilkas shook his head, "and neither is Kodlak."

"But I... I attacked a shield-brother... and a Circle member at that..."

"You did," Vilkas agreed, "a shield-brother who put you in a position to make you feel that was necessary... and a Circle member who should have known better," Vilkas pointed out firmly. "No one rules anyone in the Companions," he reminded her. "No one's going to fault you for defending yourself. He never should have pressured you."

She just blinked at him for a moment, looking stunned. "But... Skjor said..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"Skjor's not the Harbinger," Vilkas said gently, "and even if he were, he'd need the whole Circle's approval to throw you out... which you know Farkas and I would not give."

She just looked him in disbelief for several moments before she swallowed and took a deep breath. "I... I was expecting you would be mad at me like you were about your sword and not want me around anymore..." she explained quietly... "I've been hiding out around town, waiting for you to get back so I could apologize before I left... just trying to decide where to go..."

Vilkas shook his head and smiled. By Ysmir, he was so relieved she'd waited for him. "The only place you need to go, is on your next job with me."

He heard her pulse jump at that, but she was still looking at him in disbelief. Vilkas sighed. He supposed he did owe her some more explanation for his previous behavior...

"I'm sorry I held a grudge for so long after you came back to us," he added earnestly, "I have a temper, and I don't trust easily, but I'm also a man of my word. I've realized I was wrong about you, and I meant it when I said I want to be your shield-brother."

She looked down at his hand, still holding on to hers, and Vilkas heard a soft chuckle escape her lips. He raised an eyebrow and smirked hopefully at her.

"So Farkas really was right about you," she smirked almost teasingly back up at him as her fingers gently curled around his.

Vilkas rolled his eyes but couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. His heart jumped happily as she held his hand.

"I'll tell you a secret," he chuckled, "just between you and me, he usually is."

She laughed at that. "I'm glad," she smiled, "I like this side of you much better than first impressions."

"Me too," Vilkas smirked. "Let's get back to Jorrvaskr. I bet Tilma's cooked too much food, I need a wash, and I think I need to braid your hair again."

She smiled warmly at that, and let him lead her back around the temple. Vilkas's heart felt light and happy as they walked passed the Gildergreen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, this is really turning into one of the pieces I’m just having fun with the fluffiness. Hope y’all enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

Despite his long trip, Vilkas washed quickly, not bothering to spend the time soaking his sore muscles like he normally would have. He was eager to get to dinner with Ysabyth.

As soon as he opened the door to the upstairs he heard Farkas whisper in a mischievous tone;

"Here he comes, watch this..."

"Farkas," Ysabyth half-heartedly complained with a giggle.

Vilkas rolled his eyes and headed quickly up the steps, bracing himself to find Farkas doing something that was probably going to annoy him...

...and sure enough, he reached the dining hall to find Farkas sitting at the table with his arm around Ysabyth's shoulders. If he hadn't already known Farkas was just trying to get a rise out of him again, he would have been properly angry.

As he approached Farkas gave him a smug smirk, and Ysabyth looked up at him with a sheepish, apologetic smile. Vilkas smirked at her in return and almost chuckled when he heard her pulse jump.

The other whelps weren't back yet, so the three of them were the only ones in the hall. Vilkas plopped himself into the chair on Ysabyth's other side and casually swatted Farkas's arm away.

"This the reaction you were looking for?" He whispered with a smirk as he replaced Farkas's arm with his own.

Ysabyth blushed a beautiful shade of pink and Vilkas heard her pulse jump yet again, but she smirked and let him pull her a little closer to him.

"I couldn't tell you," she shrugged, "it was Farkas's idea."

Vilkas chuckled and looked over to Farkas who was leaning back in his chair now. His smug smirk had turned into a smug grin as he watched them.

"Careful brother," Vilkas said in a even tone, "keep up stunts like that and I just might have to go start flirting with a certain Dragonborn's Housecarl..."

Farkas narrowed his eyes unhappily for a moment, but then the smirk returned almost instantly. "So we're admittin' that that's what this is now?" He teased, motioning at Vilkas and Ysabyth, "you flirting?"

Vilkas's face flushed and he glared at Farkas as he heard Ysabyth's breath catch in her throat...

"Maybe I'm just protecting her from your attempts to flirt," he shot back.

Farkas just snorted at that.

"Speaking of a 'certain Dragonborn's Housecarl'..." Ysabyth cut in with a smirk at Farkas.

Vilkas's heart jumped when she leaned back against him as she turned to face Farkas...

"I was worried after the fiasco with Skjor got out that I wouldn't be welcome in Whiterun, so I went ahead and advised the Jarl's steward that Lydia has my permission to move and/or be married if she chooses to."

Vilkas heard Farkas's pulse jump at that and the teasing smirk fell from his face...

"Does she know that?" He asked in hopeful surprise.

"I was planning to stop by home before I left town and let her know," Ysabyth replied.

"We could stop by when we go for whatever job you'd like to take next," Vilkas suggested with a hopeful smile of his own. He wanted to see her manor...

"We could..." Ysabyth nodded, she glanced back at him from over her shoulder and looked slightly startled by how close his face was to hers...

Vilkas just smirked more as she blushed a little darker. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting her go so he could turn to his food.

"So," Farkas continued conversationally, "you find anything interesting in Riften, brother?"

Vilkas sighed... he knew what Farkas was doing, and he wasn't going to take that bait.

"Possibly," he shrugged, "it was a pretty standard job though..."

Vilkas told them a bit about his trip as they ate; about the guard who'd tried to charge him a 'visitor's tax' (Ysabyth had snorted at that), and of the bandits he'd tracked down once he'd left. He left out mentioning Brynjolf though, he wanted to tell Ysabyth about that encounter in private.

Then Ysabyth told them of her antics avoiding everyone for the last four days. Mostly scaling rooftops and avoiding people... but the story of the one incident she did have made Farkas laugh so hard he spilled his drink, and Vilkas had nearly choked with laughter himself. Apparently she'd taken it upon herself to intervene while Olfrid Battleborn was bullying Fralia at her stall in the market, so she'd dropped a basket on his head. The old fool never knew what happened, she'd run by so quickly, dropped the basket on him, and was away and watching the aftermath from the roof of the Bannered Mare before the guards even knew something had happened.

Vilkas wished he had been there to see it. He told her as much and Farkas agreed.

Not long after that, Farkas pushed his empty plate aside and grabbed for an apple as he got to his feet.

"Welp," he chuckled as he pushed in his chair, "I promised Lydia someone'd let her know if we found Ysa. I'll leave you two to plan your next job..."

"You're going all the way back to the manor tonight?" Ysabyth asked looking back to Farkas suddenly.

"It's not that far," Farkas shrugged, "an' I did promise."

"Alright then," she shrugged, "tell her I'm sorry for worrying her."

"And don't do anything stupid or dishonorable," Vilkas chuckled.

"Alright," Farkas nodded to Ysabyth and then grinned teasingly back at Vilkas, "I won't... you either." He chuckled again before turning to head out the door.

Vilkas chuckled as well before looking back to Ysabyth... contemplating what else to tell her... it was probably best to simply be honest, he decided.

"I did have an interesting encounter in Riften that I didn't want to mention in front of Farkas..." Vilkas began with a smirk once they were alone in the dining hall.

"Uh oh," Ysabyth grumbled, raising her eyebrows at him in concern. "I don't need to go steal back any valuables for you do I?"

"I thought you were done with thieving," Vilkas teased.

"Stealing things back from a thief doesn't count," she replied, sounding grumpy.

"I know," Vilkas chuckled, "that's a Companion's job."

She smiled appreciatively at that and Vilkas smiled.

"And don't worry," he added, "I had the good sense to keep an eye on my coin purse."

She sighed. "I doubt any of them could get anything by you anyway," she said with a shake of her head.

"Not if I know to pay attention at least," Vilkas chuckled. "But while I was passing the market, something caught my attention," he began with a smirk and Ysabyth cocked her eyebrow curiously at him.

He shifted in his chair, leaning slightly forward to reach out and run his fingers gently into her hair. Her breath caught in her throat again and she looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to go on.

" _This_ particular, lovely color," he smiled, "caught the corner of my eye, and made me hope for a moment that you had followed me after all," he chuckled, "imagine my disappointment when I found a man tending a merchant stall instead..."

Ysabyth smiled for a moment but then took a deep breath and shook her head. "That," she sighed, "would have been Brynjolf."

"Aye," Vilkas smirked, "he got quite defensive of you when I asked."

"You talked to him?" Her heart jumped almost frantically at that. "What'd he say? What'd you ask?"

"Nothing to your discredit," Vilkas replied in a calm tone. "I simply asked him what he knew of a woman who'd introduced herself as Ysabyth of Riften, and he wanted to know why I was asking and offered to pay whatever bounty you had..."

"Of course he assumed I had a bounty," she rolled her eyes with a smirk.

"He was happy when I told him it was nothing like that, and that you were doing well," Vilkas added. "He asked me to tell you... that the business is getting along fine, but your old man misses you."

Ysabyth just blinked at him in surprise for several moments before leaning back in her chair with a sigh. "He really must miss me if he's calling himself my old man," she shook her head and then laughed.

"I don't mind going with you if you want to go back and visit him," Vilkas said with a smile.

She smiled appreciatively back at him again at that and it made Vilkas's heart jump. "I'd like that," she nodded, "but I seem to recall you winning some kind of bet..." she smirked, "I think I owe you a trip for a proper job first..."

Vilkas's heart jumped a little more at the sight of her smirk... it was that confident little smirk of hers that made his blood race...

By Ysmir... he wanted her...

"We can look at the job requests in the morning," Vilkas suggested, trying to keep his thoughts in check, "why don't we just relax tonight?"

"You did say something about braiding my hair earlier," she nodded, giving him a hopeful smile now.

"Come on," Vilkas nodded toward the back doors with a grin.


End file.
